


Meeting the family

by Herk



Series: The Life and Love of Mycroft Holmes [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Complete, Fluff, Greg manages just fine, M/M, Mycroft is ACTUALLY a bit nervous, bringing the boyfriend home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herk/pseuds/Herk
Summary: Mycroft has successfully avoided this for months now. But Greg is at the bottom of his heart a family man. And he really can't put this off forever





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this helps matomato to survive Oliver ;)

Greg Lestrade knew Mycroft Holmes better than anyone but a handful of people. He prided himself on reading his lover’s moods quite well most of the time and could even give Sherlock and Anthea a run for their money in that regard. So although the elder Holmes gave no outward signs of discomfort, Greg knew he was actually trying to prepare for the worst.

 

“You know, we don’t HAVE to do this, My.”

 

The honest warmth of the offer took Mycroft by surprise. He had expected gentle mockery but really should have known Gregory better.

 

“Actually we do. Even if you were willing to let me skip this obligation, I highly doubt _she_ would let me get away with it.” Gregory’s hand on his own squeezed reassuringly.

 

“You face hostile politicians and intelligence people from all over the world on a regular basis, I’m sure you can deal with your mother.” And still Gregory wasn’t even mocking him slightly. His tone made it perfectly clear that he meant this in totally honest support.

 

“Dealing with morons from all over the world is easy, in the end none of them, none of their opinions matter.”

 

“Have you ever told them?” Greg wondered. He didn’t need to spell out that he heard the obvious, unspoken conclusion to Mycroft’s words - that his parents and their opinion _did_ matter.

 

“I hardly think that’s necessary. The fact that I did listen to ‘Do you hear the people sing?’ for its entirety in the company of the unwashed masses just to provide them with a ‘lovely evening out’ speaks for itself.”

 

Lestrade smiled. “You offered to go with me…”

 

Mycroft’s expression made it very clear of what he thought of Gregory’s tendency to state the obvious. “And you declined, for which I am eternally grateful.” A small sigh escaped him as the car came to a halt. “Well, time to face the inevitable…”

 

Lestrade wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew how the Holmeses looked from the photograph the ever dutiful son Mycroft kept in his study. He had seen enough to know that Mycroft’s relation to his parents was tense. But were the parents aware of that? And what kind of parents could deal with two such sons as Mycroft and Sherlock? What kind of parents did it take to produce two such sons as Mycroft and Sherlock?

 

The first thing he noticed when Mr. Holmes opened the door, was the man’s height. He somehow had expected the old man to be a good deal shorter than himself. Greg wasn’t a small man but Siger Holmes despite his age might have half an inch on him, being almost as tall as his two adult sons.

 

“Mycroft - oh and you must be Greg, come on in.”

 

Before he had a chance, Lestrade was swept in and was sitting in the comfortably stuffed living room. Mycroft’s father immediately insisted on Greg calling him Siger. “‘Mr. Holmes’ is my son,” he explained with a wink and indeed even in this small, familiar environment, Mycroft and his three-piece emanated an air of formality, certainly far more so than his aged father in his slightly washed out jumper.

 

“Mycie.” Mummy Holmes appeared from the kitchen, a kettle in hand and a warm smile on her face.

 

Next to Greg, Mycroft inadvertently stiffened. His smile was forced. “Mother, please be so kind as to remember the name you chose to give me.”

 

The older woman furrowed her brow. “Is that a way to greet your mother?” She put down the kettle on the small couch table and took the few steps towards her oldest.

 

Mycroft actually leaned in and embraced the shorter woman. “Hello, Mummy.”

 

She hugged him back with a peck on his cheek. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it Mycroft? Now will you introduce me to your handsome young man?”

 

Greg couldn’t help but smile. Despite the fact that she was surrounded by three men over six feet, ‘Mummy’ easily was the biggest presence in the room. And the fact that she treated her son who was well in his forties as if he was still an awkward teenager reminded him so much of his own mother when she slipped back into old familiar patterns that he couldn’t do anything but feel at home in a fundamental way.

 

“Please allow me to introduce you to Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, Mummy. Gregory - Violet Eliza Holmes, my mother.”

 

Lestrade caught the amused twinkle in Mrs. Holmes’ eye when her son insisted on using Greg’s full title. She offered her hand with a smile. “I’m pleased to finally meet you Detective Inspector, and please call me Violet.”

 

“Likewise, Violet. And please - everyone but your sons calls me Greg.”

 

Mrs. Holmes turned to her oldest. “Sherlock calls him Gregory?”

 

Seeing Mycroft’s expression of distaste, Greg couldn’t help but chuckle, although Sherlock’s ‘inability’ to remember his name usually annoyed him to no end. “Sherlock calls me anything from Gabe to Guillaume when he doesn’t just stick to my last name.”

 

“One of his many less endearing habits.” Mycroft added.

 

“Oh shush you.” Violet Holmes turned towards Lestrade. “Now Greg, how do you prefer your tea?”

 

It didn’t take long for Greg to relax - he’d been more curious than nervous anyway and he found that it was easy talking to Siger and to a certain degree even Violet. In lots of ways he had more in common with Mycroft’s father than with either of the sons and Violet - well she wasn’t _his_ mother which made things easier and in general he liked the company of self-assured, slightly bossy women. Next to him Mycroft very gradually relaxed as his parents and Greg talked about football, musicals, and the latest novels they enjoyed. His mask began to slip to a point where he began to roll his eyes when his father commented on the merits of “Les Miserables”.

 

“Now this is nice, isn’t it Myc?” Greg narrowed his eyes. Violet Holmes wasn’t Sherlock. She used the abbreviation very consciously, well aware of the fact Mycroft didn’t like it. Come to think of it maybe Sherlock _did_ the same thing. “I really don’t know why you always try to hide your boyfriends from us.”

 

“If I remember correctly, you all met Oliver several times.”

 

“Just at Oxford. You only brought him here once.”

 

“Technically you didn’t live ‘here’ back then. And it was Oliver’s decision not to visit more often, not mine.” Mycroft was actually pretty tense beside him now.

 

“And what about the others?”

 

“As I explained countless times, Mother, there were no others.”

 

“What about Thomas?”

 

“Thomas was a CAT.”

 

“Well how would *I* know? With your tendency to keep to yourself all the time, keeping secrets the same way other people draw breath.”

 

“Violet?”

 

Mrs Holmes turned towards Greg, surprised he would speak up.

 

“You are an intelligent woman and I’m sure you understand very well that keeping secrets is actually a huge part of your son’s job. He doesn’t do it just to annoy his loved ones. I don’t think it’s entirely fair of you to hold that against him.”

 

Violet Holmes blinked then scowled at her guest.

 

Lestrade held her gaze levelly.

 

Suddenly Violet smiled and looked at her son. “You better keep this one, Mycroft. Telling me off when it’s needed is something none of you boys ever quite managed.” Her words clearly included her husband who smiled guiltily. She poured another round of tea, catching Mycroft’s eyes with her own. “And it’s about time you found someone you allow to look after you for a change.”

**Author's Note:**

> This grew from a stupid/funny line (the one about the cat) and grew into fluff.
> 
> I can't help myself. I LIKE fluff.
> 
> EDIT: There's a small epilogue for this in "Snippets & Outtakes"


End file.
